Three Letters
by moonservant
Summary: The time has come to find Bae, but this is the land without happy endings. At least, upon first glance. One-shot. Completely disregards The Queen of Hearts.


**A/N: This is my first Once Upon a Time story. It popped into my head a few days ago and I really liked the idea. It's a sad tale, but I think it has a happy ending. Please give it a read and let me know your thoughts.**

**Disclaimer: I do not own Once Upon a Time.  
**

* * *

Things in Storybrooke had finally reached a level of normalcy. There was no impending attacks. The realms were, more or less, divided, though who knew how long that would last. The townsfolk had begun to develop a routine again. Families were happily reunited-except for one.

Mr. Gold sat at a library computer with tabs open for all the country's major newspapers. Thanks to the dwarves he knew now that he could never leave Storybrooke without forgetting the very reason everyone was here. Instead, he needed a new method. In the old world, a bird would have found anyone, no matter where they were hiding. Unfortunately here, the animals weren't so clever and getting his message out would require a more public act. A personal ad was his best bet. Belle had suggested a missing person piece, but he didn't know anything about his son. He had no idea how long he'd been here or if he was even here now. Magic was so unpredictable, Baelfire could have landed somewhere in the future. Still he had to try and a simple ad would suffice.

The wording was tricky. He'd spent days contemplating it. He couldn't say too much, since their story was too outrageous, but he needed his son to know, beyond a doubt, the message was meant for him. At least, he decided on:

Baelfire (Bae),

I'm sorry I broke our deal, but I'm here now.

Rumpel

It would run for a month, and if he didn't get a response by then, he'd have to think of something else. But he wouldn't think like that for now. His boy had always craved information and no matter what, he would turn to a newspaper for an understanding of the new world he was in. He'd taught him to do this when they arrived in new places. The best way to blend in was to know what was going on. He just had to hope that he would read the entire paper and see his ad in there.

* * *

"Rumpel! You missed dinner," Belle called through the house as she let herself in. They were supposed to meet after work in her apartment, but after an hour of nothing, she'd left to find him. The shop was closed, but the lights were on in the house. It didn't make sense then why he wasn't answering the phone. "I know you're here Rumpelstiltskin. Where are you?" She was beginning to get annoyed with his lack of response. She started climbing the stairs, but the soft sound of crying from the kitchen changed her course.

She pushed open the door and stopped at the sight. Her always composed Rumpelstiltskin sat at the table, hunched over, sobbing onto the tabletop. One arm was curled around his head while the other stuck out in front with paper clutched in his fist. All around him was shattered dishes and smashed furniture. She knew this could go one of two ways. Either, he'd be upset that shed seen him like this and lash out, or he'd be grateful not to be alone. It was risk she was willing to take. The man she loved was hurting and she needed to help.

"Rumpel," she called softly as she approached so as not to startle him, "what happened?" She knelt beside him and began rubbing his back. Instead of responding, he pulled her onto his lap and buried his face in her neck. She wrapped her arms around him and rocked slowly back and forth as he continued to cry. Slowly, he started to quiet down, though his breathing was horribly ragged. "Do oyu want to tell me what happened?" she tried again.

"Bae's dead," he choked out. She gasped and held him tighter. She wasn't a parent, and therefore couldn't relate to his pain, but she knew this had always been his biggest fear, and she knew a thing or two about nightmares.

"How do you-what-uh?" Her voice faltered as she tried to form her next thought, but what did one say to a mourning father?

"Read it. I only got through the first sentence," he said as he handed her the crumpled paper. Without completely letting him go, she smoothed out the letter and read.

_Dear Mr. Rumpel,_

_ I regretfully inform you that my grandfather, Thomas Shepard, known to family and friends as Baelfire, passed away two months ago. It was a peaceful passing, happening in his sleep just after his 95 birthday after a weekend with his family.  
_

_ A week before his death, he pulled me aside and told me an old friend had returned. I'm still confused how he knew this or what he really meant, but I believe he was referring to you. He asked me to pass on a message should anyone show up knowing him only as Baelfire, and so, I give you my grandfather's message:  
_

_I never forgot the lessons you taught me, thank you for letting me go, and have always forgiven you.  
_

_I know this wasn't the information you were looking for, but I hope it helps.  
_

_Sincerely,  
_

_Jane Olsen  
_

Two months and a week. That was how long the curse had been broken. Baelfire had sense the return of magic, his father's presence, and it had comforted him. More importantly though, it let him prepare to pass long a very important message. Rumpelstiltskin was forgiven.

"My love," she whispered as she returned her full embrace, "You need to read the rest of the letter. Thought it will still hurt, I think it will help you too."

"I can't... at least not now," he mumbled. Belle began smoothing him hair, a gesture that used to calm her as a child.

"Of course. Everything at your own pace. But come, let's get you to bed. You need rest and time. Don't worry about anything; I'll take care of you." His cane was no where to be found, so she helped him stand and guided him up the stairs into his room. He was so broken that he did not protest when she helped him into pajamas, washed away the dried tears, or tucked him in. Nothing really mattered anymore. Bae was gone, and he had failed.

* * *

It took two weeks before he returned to his shop, a month before he got out of bed at a proper hour to join Belle for a weekend breakfast, and another two before she could coax even a glimmer of a real smile from him. Of course it would be a long recovery, all her research told her so, but she knew one thing was holding him back. He didn't know his son anymore. Baelfire left when he was 15 and lived another 80 years. That was a mysterious 80 years Rumpelstiltskin knew nothing about. Perhaps if he had an answer he'd heal faster.

Belle watched him close up the library as he did every Sunday night. It was a little habit of his he'd developed about a month ago. They were going on month five since receiving Jane's letter and he coping with life. For 28 years, he'd learned to play the role of Mr. Gold, hiding all his emotions when it suited him. It was a role he was hiding behind a lot more lately. Though she loved both sides of him, she hated seeing him hide like this. It was time.

"All locked up then. I best be going now. Have a good night, my Belle." He turned to leave, but Belle caught his hand.

"Rumpel, I need to show you something." The worry in her voice kept him for protesting and he silently followed her into her apartment upstairs. He sat on the sofa as she almost ran into her room. A minute later, she returned much slower with an envelope in her hands. As she always did when she was nervous, she bit her lower lip. She was genuinely worried.

"I'm sorry if this was too bold of me, but I thought it might help you. I wrote to Jane, telling her I was your wife, and asked if she could share Baelfire's life story with you. I said you were childhood friends and you were looking to get back in touch. She wrote about a while ago, but I didn't think you were ready. I swear though, I haven't read it. He was your son and you deserve to see it first." He didn't say anything; there was no change in expression as he accepted the letter from her. He turned it over and broke the seal, but stopped with a quivering breath.

"I can't, Belle. I... I'm too scared," he confessed. She sat down at his side and took his right hand between hers.

"I understand. You could just take it with you and-"

"No, you don't understand. I'm a coward, have been my whole life. I've always run from things I couldn't control: the war, Bae, you because I don't want to get hurt anymore. This," he nearly choked, brandishing the letter before her," this terrifies me." Her thumb caressed the back of his hand in true understanding. It was a big admittance he'd just made as part of a deep loss and there was nothing for her to say. If he didn't want to read it, there was no making him. But she would save it just in case.

"You always did have the sweetest reading voice, my Belle," he whispered after a few quiet moments. He had a look that was very far away, perhaps in another world, and a small, yet determined, smile danced on his lips. "Even the worse stories, filled with monsters and death, you made them all right. Perhaps if you-" She took the letter from him, needing no more explanation. She pulled the note from the envelope and curled into his side as he held her close and breathed a sigh of relief.

_Dear Mrs. Gold,_

_I would be happy to tell you and your husband about my grandfather. He was the best man I knew and I know he wouldn't want your husband to suffer at his passing.  
_

_After he ran away from the farm, he arrived in Philadelphia, and worked there for three years in the steel mills. He said he was quite talented at his work, and in his later years often returned to welding as a hobby. My backyard is filled with countless decorations he made. He would have made quite a career had he stayed, but when he turned 18, he enlisted in the army to fight in Europe for the last year of World War 2. He and my father told me many stories from that time, and when he talked about all the hardship and terror of fighting, there was still great pride in his expressions. He continued in the military for about 25 years after that, eventually retiring as a Master Sargent.  
_

_It was during this time that he met my grandmother, the fiery Elizabeth Scott from California. She evaded him for five years, but he finally persuaded her to marry him, and on August 12, 1956, they were wed in a small ceremony on the base. A year later, my Uncle John was born, two years later brought Aunt Karen, and shortly after my father, Robert, arrived. As much as he loved my grandmother, he always said the day his children were born were the three happiest days of his life.  
_

_After he retired, he became a banker, returning to Pennsylvania once again. He loved the outdoors and drove his wife half crazy with frequent camping and fishing trips, though Uncle John was always at his side. My aunt and father were more like their mother and preferred the excitement of the city. However, he was never a recluse and was well-loved by the community. The Shepards frequently volunteered with the local schools and homeless shelters. My grandfather had a real soft spot for the less fortunate and always did what he could to make their situation just a bit easier. They also threw huge parties around every holiday, and sometimes just because. I think he might have exageratted, but he claimed half the city showed up one time. As I said, my grandmother was a spirited woman and brought out the best in his otherwise soft demeanor. She died when I was ten at age 72, but even then, I knew how much they loved each other. They bantered and picked at each other like no one else, but you always saw how much they cared in their eyes.  
_

_He took her passing hard, but managed to carry on for his family. In the end, he had three children, eleven grandchildren, and nine great-grandchildren. We were all there when he passed. It was supposed to be our last night before everyone left after celebrating his birthday. During dinner, he seemed so content and peaceful. The memory of that look has kept me from seeing his death as a tragedy. His life was not always easy, but it was happy and always filled with love, family, and friends.  
_

_I wish you could have known him later in life, but please don't feel sad for him. Instead, celebrate a life well-lived for he was truly the best of men.  
_

_Sincerely,  
_

_Jane Olsen  
_

Belle turned to face Rumpelstiltskin and felt her heart melt. Tears fell from closed eyes, but his face was relaxed and graced with a genuine smile. She set the letter aside and twisted to hug him, burying her face in his chest.

"Thank you so much, Belle," he whispered in contentment. She was right. He'd just needed to know his son was happy, the sole wish of any parent. His hands gently guided her face upwards, and for the first time in five months, he truly kissed her. They didn't hear the screams outside or see the walls crumble as purple smoke encased them. They were in their own world, at peace at last. It wasn't until they pulled apart did they realize they were back in the Dark Castle, dressed as their old selves. Belle smiled as she gazed upon Rumpelstiltskin, completely human, though still as powerful as ever. He wasn't the cowardly spinner, but he was no longer twisted into the Dark One. He was somewhere in between, just as he should have been, because he finally didn't have to be afraid anymore. He could simply be at peace.

**A/N: I feel this would work. From the impression I've gotten, their still in Storybrooke because Rumpel needs to find Bae. I'm certainly hoping he finds him alive and well, I personally like the idea of Bae being Henry's father, but if it had to go tragically, I wouldn't mind this. Please give me your thoughts!**


End file.
